I put out the cigarette
Rubbing my hands to keep warm
And take a last look
Tomorrow morning
I’m leaving this room
Going back home
The woman I married,
The one with the light brown hair,
Now graying at the temples
Says it’s been a long time.
I travel past open fields
That stretch forever
Ride on concrete highways
That seem to disappear in the horizon
Cross steel bridges
Suspended over cities and towns
And places nowhere on the map
The road back
Is not that easy.
Friends tell me
That my daughter,
Once a little darling with curls,
Is grown up now
With her own family
My son,
Anger in his eyes
Impatience in his soul,
Wants to leave
Just to go anywhere.
The trip’s ended
I stand in the doorway
Wife and I
Stare at each other
In awkward silence
And I remember
We never did talk that much
She breaks the stillness
Her voice matter of fact
“There’s a plate for you in the kitchen
Eat it while it’s still warm.”
As I walk by
She touches my arm
Her gesture saying more
Than words could ever say
Pulling up a chair
I look around
The familiar kitchen
It feels good
To be back home.
Going Back
Re: Going Back
Great capture in words.
My son,
Anger in his eyes
Impatience in his soul,
Wants to leave
Just to go anywhere.
( fine work)
My son,
Anger in his eyes
Impatience in his soul,
Wants to leave
Just to go anywhere.
( fine work)
-
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Re: Going Back
Well written. One wants to ask, although it doesn't matter, where has be been?
- .Lucy.
- Posts: 285
- Joined: May 27th, 2009, 11:40 am
- Location: Stuck between a conundrum and a metaphor
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Re: Going Back
Exactly! One is tempted to ask questions, but really, it isn't necessary, is it?
A good read!
A good read!
The road to happiness: Perseverance, Endurance and a whole lot of Hope.
Re: Going Back
But why exactly don’t we touch more freely,
when we know it feels so good to touch,
to feel, to know that we’ve been loved? My arm
is never bruised by you and neither is my cheek—
and never have you hit me, neither have
you ever beaten me— and yet I shake
and something in my incarnation quakes
within its borders, and my spirit breaks
in whimpered breaths and all the life I take
within my lungs, like all my love, is ravaged—
and I leave myself as something weak,
and this is my response to you, my warm
response to something loved as much
as anything worth loving—even me.
when we know it feels so good to touch,
to feel, to know that we’ve been loved? My arm
is never bruised by you and neither is my cheek—
and never have you hit me, neither have
you ever beaten me— and yet I shake
and something in my incarnation quakes
within its borders, and my spirit breaks
in whimpered breaths and all the life I take
within my lungs, like all my love, is ravaged—
and I leave myself as something weak,
and this is my response to you, my warm
response to something loved as much
as anything worth loving—even me.
"Every genuinely religious person is a heretic, and therefore a revolutionary" -- GBShaw
Re: Going Back
this has a no frills honesty that tugs at one's experience with relationships, on that emotional plane that I think many can easily relate to...fine work !
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: Going Back
Ed...this is great on the rereads...just wanted to mention that....
"Every genuinely religious person is a heretic, and therefore a revolutionary" -- GBShaw
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